


Storms

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: AU Yeah AUgust 2020 [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU Yeah August 2020, Accidental Pregnancy, Alien Childbirth, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Beaches, Childbirth, Developing Friendship, First Meetings, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, High-Risk Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Premature Labour, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Storms, Walks On The Beach, Winter, life decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Jazz hadn't believed in mermecha. Not till he found one tangled in debris on the beach after a gale. It was kind of impossible not to after that.
Relationships: Jazz & Bluestreak, Jazz/Prowl, Prowl & Barricade & Smokescreen, Prowl & Bluestreak
Series: AU Yeah AUgust 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860307
Comments: 47
Kudos: 148





	1. Untangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz walked the beach after storms looking for interesting things that might have been washed up. After the last storm, he finds not driftmetal or sea glass or polished stones, but a mech straight out of a myth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for AU Yeah August Day 15. Prompt: Mythical Creatures

Jazz had spent a long time learning his craft as a luthier and building up his reputation, and he'd finally been able to buy a house near the beach and convert part of it to a workshop. At the end of the day, when he knocked off working on whatever instrument he'd been commissioned for, he liked to go for a walk on the beach. Interesting things washed up pretty often, especially after the storms, and Jazz liked to hum and sing to himself as he walked. One day, after an early winter storm had blown itself out, he took a walk to see if the storm had brought anything really cool onto the shore. Jazz sang to himself while he looked, and picked up some interesting stones and shells that had been pushed onto the sand. He walked a little further than usual because there was so much new stuff to look at and stopped dead when he came across something he'd never seen before. There, lying tangled in a fishing net and half-covered by the seaweed that the storm had stirred up and washed onto the beach, lay a mermech. The mermech saw Jazz at almost the same time Jazz saw him, and Jazz saw the light suddenly glinting off sharp claws. Claws or not, the mech didn't look well, and Jazz knew he needed help.

"Hey there," Jazz said, holding out his hands to show he meant no harm. "I'm not going to hurt you. Seems like you could use a hand getting untangled, mech. You wanna let me close so I can do that?"

The mermech regarded him suspiciously for a few nano-kliks before speaking.

"You may approach," he said, "but do not attempt to harm me. I cannot bend to free myself, but I am not defenceless."

"Deal," Jazz said, and approached the mermech slowly, hands out, so he could examine the net. There were pieces of metal twisted in it as well as seaweed. The whole mess was twisted around the mermech in such a way that he couldn't move to get it himself. Jazz untangled what he could with bare hands, but he couldn't get through the worst of the mess that way, and the tide was rising.

"I'm going to cut through the rest of this with my vibro-blade," Jazz told the mermech. "Just gonna use it on the net and the seaweed, okay?"

The mermech tensed, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice if he wanted out any time soon. "Very well."

The vibro-blade did the trick, and Jazz had the mermech free in no time.

"Thank you, land-dweller," the mermech said, sitting up. "It would have been an even longer and more dangerous wait for my brothers had you not assisted me."

"You're welcome," Jazz replied, adding, "my name's Jazz."

The mermech considered him for a moment then said, "you may call me Prowl."

"You gonna be okay to get back home on your own, Prowl?" Jazz looked out over the sea and thought he saw oxide shark fins in the distance. Prowl saw them too and frowned.

"It will not be safe for me to travel on my own yet," Prowl admitted. "Nor for my brothers to approach the beach. I will have to stay here and defend myself as best I can."

Jazz didn't like the thought of Prowl being out here all alone. The tide would fill the beach two mechano-metres deep with water within joors, and that was more than deep enough for the sharks to come close. Prowl might be free of the net and the trash, but he still looked pretty banged up.

"You can come to stay with me," Jazz offered. "Just till you feel okay to travel again."

"I have nothing to exchange."

"I don't need payment. C'mon. You'll be a lot safer, plus you won't have to worry about fuel."

Prowl looked at him for a moment then said, "let me send a message to my brothers, then I will accompany you to your home."

Prowl pulled something out of his subspace that looked like an artificial robo-minnow. He whispered something to it, so softly Jazz could not hear, then carefully squeezed its sides to activate it. Prowl threw it as if he were skipping a stone, low over the sea, and it went several mechano-metres before disappearing below the surface. Then, Jazz heard a transformation cog engage. Prowl's tail transformed into legs and feet, and he stood up. Jazz stood up too, which was good because Prowl immediately clapped a hand to his side and swayed, and Jazz had to steady him.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked, alarmed.

"My t-cog has gone offline," Prowl said with a wince. "My self-repair can handle it, but I won't be able to return to root mode until then."

"Can you walk?"

"Yes. Slowly."

"I'm not in a hurry," Jazz promised and off they went, slowly, like Prowl had said.

It was sunset by the time they'd navigated the steps up to Jazz's house, and Prowl's optics were starting to dim around the edges. Jazz made sure Prowl refuelled, showed him where the energon was, gave him the good pain blockers, and let Prowl crash in his bedroom while Jazz took the couch. Prowl slept late the next morning or at least didn't come out of the bedroom for a while, and Jazz spent the time shaping metal in his workshop. He'd clamped the bodies for two new lutes and a gittern by the time Prowl came out to find him.

"How're you feeling?" Jazz asked, giving Prowl a few kliks to find the kitchen and get some energon before going out to find him.

"Better, thank you," Prowl said, pulling a cube from the warmer. "My t-cog requires a full three cycles before it will be functional again, however. I can swim in this form, but it would be more difficult to evade predators. Perhaps if my brothers come…"

"You can stay here as long as you need to," Jazz said, and grabbed a couple of rust sticks from the cupboard, offering the canister to Prowl.

Prowl looked at them, then carefully selected one and took a delicate bite. His optics widened in surprise.

"Good?" Jazz asked, suppressing a grin at the expression on his guest's face.

"Sweets are rare under the sea," Prowl explained. "But I've always preferred them."

"Yeah?" Jazz offered the canister himself. "Help yourself. I can always make more."

" _Make_ more?"

Guess baking wasn't a big thing under the sea either. Well, Jazz had time while his new instrument bodies were drying in their clamps and so he taught Prowl how to make rust sticks. The next cycle, he showed him how to make energon gels, and the next, delicate spun silica wafers. Prowl had precisely the right amount of patience for the more delicate work, and he wanted to learn everything. Jazz hadn't had so much baking on hand for ages.

Prowl turned out to not only be a quick study and a good baker but good company as well. Still, he had to go back once his t-cog was healed, and Jazz got that, but he still regretted not getting to spend any more time with him. Still, mech had people waiting for him.

"I don't want my brothers to worry," Prowl explained, accepting the box of treats Jazz had sealed up for him. There were areas in his home with air where he could enjoy them without seawater spoiling them, apparently. "But, if you wish, I would be able to return for a visit, on occasion."

"I'd like that," Jazz said honestly. "I'd like that a whole lot."

Prowl smiled. "Then I will come when I can."

Jazz walked Prowl down to the beach. They exchanged good-byes, and Jazz watched Prowl walk out thigh-deep into the water then leap high into the air, transforming as he went. His arc took him out over deeper water, and he disappeared below the surface with hardly a splash and a flick of his black-tipped tail. He surfaced once, briefly, and looked back at Jazz before diving once more and, presumably, heading for home.

Jazz watched a little longer, but there was no more sign of Prowl, and he headed for home, wondering when he'd see Prowl again.


	2. Entangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of passion and pleasure leads to an unexpected consequence and Jazz finds himself needing to make some major decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for AU Yeah August Day 25. Prompt was 'dance,' I used unplanned pregnancy.

Jazz spent a deca-cycle wondering when he'd see Prowl again and kept up his habit of wandering the beach, but this time he was looking for Prowl, not interesting flotsam. Well, Prowl as well as interesting flotsam. In fact, he was picking up a few pieces of sea glass when he heard soft splashing behind him, and he turned to see Prowl walking out of the surf, water streaming down his armour.

"Hello, Jazz."

"Hey, Prowl."

It was the first visit of many over that stellar cycle, and one of the shorter ones. Prowl never stayed longer than a day, and he told Jazz a lot about his life under the sea. He had two brothers, and he was a warrior and a hunter. He'd also known Jazz was here long before Jazz had known Prowl was out there.

"I liked to come and listen to you sing," Prowl had said shyly. "Sometimes, I wondered what you were looking for."

"Interesting things the waves brought in," Jazz said honestly. "Didn't ever expect to find anything more than some smooth rocks or sea glass, though."

"You sought treasures from the sea?" Prowl asked, smiling, and Jazz smiled back.

"Yeah. Treasures from the sea."

The stellar-cycle began to wane, and the storm season was on them again. Jazz didn't expect to see Prowl again for a while and, while he regretted it, he understood. He'd never have met Prowl if the storms didn't make the sea treacherous, and next time it might not be Jazz who found him. Jazz was going to miss his friend, but it was more important Prowl stay safe. Jazz would just need to save up everything he wanted to tell him for the spring, once the storms waned.

The sky was darkening with an incoming storm when Jazz heard the knock on his door. He expected a lost traveller since people sometimes took a wrong turn and was ready to give directions back to the road. He hadn't expected _Prowl_.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Prowl said, standing there all slick and faintly gleaming with the rain that had already begun to fall.

"Nah, of course not," Jazz said, genuinely pleased to see him, stepping back to let him in. "But, the storm?"

"I have enough time to return home safely," Prowl assured him, coming inside. "The storm will remain as rain only for several joors, and I can be safely below the waves by the time it became dangerous. But the storms promise to be severe this winter, and this may be the last time I'll be able to return until spring."

"We should make this a good visit, then," Jazz said and smiled. He was glad Prowl had come, had sneaked in one more visit before the winter. "Wanna make some rust sticks for it? Before the house loses power, anyway. Happens sometimes in the storms, something about the electrical fields they generate."

"I would like that."

While they were waiting for the rust sticks to cool, Jazz glanced outside and frowned. "You sure about being able to get back safe, Prowler?"

"Yes. It is only darkness and rain. Once I’m beneath the waves, it won't make any difference."

"You can stay the night if you want," Jazz offered, even though he knew Prowl was right. Mermecha had no issue seeing in the darkness, apparently. But this, talking and baking in a warmly lit kitchen while the rain battered the windows, gave the day a cozy, intimate feel that Jazz didn't want to end. "I'll take the couch."

"I would like to stay," Prowl said and put a hand on Jazz's arm, looking him intently in the visor. "But you don't have to take the couch." Jazz was surprised, and it must have shown because Prowl added, "or, I can return home if – "

"No," Jazz interrupted hastily. "I just…didn't expect you to offer."

"I am," Prowl said. "Offering."

Prowl was handsome, a good friend, Jazz loved him platonically for sure, and, well, why not?

"Okay, then," Jazz said and put his hand over Prowl's. "I accept. Kiss me?"

Prowl answered him by doing just that.

It was a starless, moons-less night thanks to the storm, and the house did lose power. When he thought of that night in the future, Jazz would remember cool air and warm metal, whispered praise, low croons of pleasure from Prowl and the glow of his lover's optics in the dark. He would remember his lover's helm tucked against his neck as they clung together, coming down from one sweet overload after another.

"I'm happy you stayed the night," Jazz told Prowl the next day when they'd finally and reluctantly torn themselves apart. Prowl had responsibilities and had to return home, but Jazz had walked with him down to the water. "It'll be a long winter without your visits. I want you to stay safe, though."

"And you as well," Prowl said and kissed him tenderly one last time. "Be safe, Jazz."

"Safe travels, Prowler. See you in the spring."

Jazz spent the winter Prowl-less thanks to the storms, and then he got an offer to teach his craft at a college on the other side of the planet for the spring term. Prowl's home had DataNet connections but not for individual citizens, and, well, it wasn't like the mail delivered there. So Jazz recorded a message on one of the robo-minnows and threw it into the ocean, hoping it conveyed to Prowl just how much he'd miss him. He put off his departure as long as he could, but no word came back, and finally, his cousin Stepper, who would house-sit, pushed him out the door to his train.

Nearly at the end of the term, Jazz got a letter – a physical one, on writing foil that had a strange texture in an envelope – that was tucked inside another envelope. It had to have taken forever to get there since physical letters travelled slowly on Cybertron. Not a lot of demand when you could send stuff faster through the DataNet. There was a note from Stepper that read:

_Some mech I don't know dropped this off for you, said it was from his brother. Weird dude. Looked like he'd gone for a dip in the ocean before coming up. Anyway, I said I'd send it on to you, and he stared at me for a couple nanos then left. Also, there's some NaCl crystals trying to take over the back yard. Want me to do anything about that?_

Jazz couldn't have cared less about the NaCl crystals or his back yard just then. He opened the letter that had to be from Prowl, carefully, and read it.

_The Mithril Sea  
Dixosol, 16 Inrituneon _

_My dear friend,_

_I recall you telling me that your family members care for your house if you must be away for long periods. My brother, Barricade, will bring this letter to your home and ask that it be sent to you._

_I would have preferred to tell you this in person, as a letter on this matter is sadly impersonal, but even had I received your message earlier, I cannot travel at this time. There is no delicate way to tell you this, so I will be straightforward: the night we spent together, you struck a spark in me._

Jazz abruptly had to sit down, realized he already was sitting. Sure, contraceptive protocols sometimes failed, but he'd been sure it wouldn't happen to _him_! After a moment, Jazz snapped himself out of his daze and went back to the letter. Prowl's handwriting looked a little shaky at this point, as if he'd been emotional when he was writing it – probably had been.

_I have chosen to keep the child. I make no expectation nor demand that you will have a part in their life. I will gladly welcome you as a co-parent, but I also know you may want no parental responsibilities at all. Whatever choice you make, I will accept. I ask only that you be happy for me. I did not seek this, but after much reflection, I find myself overjoyed that it happened._

_I will leave off here, as I know this is shocking news. When you have a response, if you would be so kind as to send a messenger drone regardless of what it is, I will be greatly appreciative._

_Your friend, always,  
Prowl_

It was stiff, it was formal, and it was emotional all at the same time. It felt like Prowl had written it when it had been incredibly nervous, and Jazz thought it probably wasn't the first draft. Or the second.

Also, Primus, it had been written in Inrituneon, and it was Zetcaneon now, two orbital cycles later. Prowl had been waiting for Jazz's answer all this time, might even have concluded Jazz had abandoned him.

Jazz had no idea what he wanted to do, but he knew it wasn't to abandon Prowl. The kid – yeah, he couldn't decide what to do about the kid right now, but he could at least try to get word of some kind to Prowl. He wasn't near the ocean, but he still had one of the messenger drones – the fake robo-minnows - Prowl had left him. He recorded his explanation of why it took so long to answer and his message on it and shipped it back home, fast as the courier could get it there. 'Here, toss this drone into the ocean for me,' wasn't the weirdest thing he'd ever asked Stepper to do for him, especially since Jazz let him think it was for an experiment of some kind another teacher was running. Jazz wanted to go himself, but he couldn't just up and leave either, especially since he didn't really know how to explain it to his employer.

Maybe it was also partly that he didn't want to admit to Prowl that he still didn't know what he wanted to do about being a parent. Or not being a parent. Or… yeah, he just didn't know.

Jazz stuck around long enough to give his students their final exams, judging them on the instruments they'd put together, but his spark wasn't really in it. He put on a good face, though, one of his best. Bits of Prowl's letter kept popping into his head at random moments.

_…you struck a spark in me._

_I ask only that you be happy for me…_

_I have chosen to keep the child._

Prowl hadn’t been able to write to Jazz until the storm season had ended. Two lunar-cycles for his letter to get to Jazz and Jazz's time to get home meant Prowl would be near emergence. Jazz might not know what he wanted to do, but he thought he should at least be home before then. Maybe even try to talk to Prowl, though Jazz had no idea if he could go visit him or not. He didn't even know how to find the undersea city, for Primus' sake! Plus, he was out of message drones. If neither of Prowl's brothers came to find out what was going on, Jazz had no way to get hold of Prowl. Jazz didn't know if he wanted to be a parent or not, but he did know he wanted to talk to Prowl first. He _owed_ it to the mech. He just didn't have a way to do that. Jazz took to haunting the shore where they'd met, hoping for a sign. Not Prowl, of course, since the mech couldn't travel. Jazz hoped for a messenger or at least to see a robo-minnow-drone twitching on the sand.

He got the former. Jazz hadn't seen either of Prowl's brothers before, but the black-armoured mech striding impatiently out of the water could only be Barricade.

"You're Jazz," Barricade said flatly, apparently not much of one for niceties. "I'm here to bring you to Prowl."

"Yeah," Jazz said, already wading into the water. "Good. Just tell me what to do."

'What to do' turned out to be 'hold on.' Barricade strapped Jazz to him, Jazz's back to Barricade's front and swam them down to the city. The route seemed long and disorienting, and usually, Jazz would have been fascinated by the new experience, but just then, he was too distracted by worry.

The city was beautiful; even distracted Jazz could see that, but he wasn't given long to look. They swam to some kind of airlock, and Barricade freed Jazz from the harness.

"Come with me," Barricade ordered, not that Jazz had any intention of doing anything else.

The section of the city they walked through was one of the dry areas Prowl had told him about. Barricade brought Jazz to a hospital, where he got curious looks from the mermecha, all in their bipedal alt mode, they passed. Jazz didn't pay much attention to that, worried that his carrying friend had to be in a hospital instead of at home getting a nursery ready.

Barricade stopped at a nurse's station to ask a question, and even though Jazz couldn't understand mermech, at least some of the words were close enough to Neocybex that he could be pretty sure he heard the word 'ignis.'

Well, that'd be him. Jazz was tempted to wave, but he wasn't sure it was appropriate.

"Prowl's been on bed rest for most of this, so he's in his room," Barricade said. "Let me go in first and explain. He's had enough surprises this past stellar-cycle."

"Yeah, okay," Jazz agreed, not least because Barricade wasn't wrong. He wound up waiting just outside the doorway, listening to the brothers talk faintly, and trying not to fidget.

"He'll see you," Barricade said, reappearing in the hallway. "Don't upset him. This hasn't been easy for Prowl."

Barricade didn't seem to want a reply to that, so Jazz didn't give him one, just walked past him into the room. Prowl was in bed, the top half of which was raised, so he was half sitting up. He was hooked up to monitors and looking, well, not as bad as Jazz had feared. Not great, but not as bad as he could have been. In one corner of the room was something that looked for all the world like an oil bath, and Jazz couldn't figure out its purpose here – not that he gave it much thought. Prowl was in his bipedal mode, and his hands rested on his rounded abdomen, gently and absently stroking.

"Hello, Jazz," Prowl said, managing a smile.

"Hi there, Prowler," Jazz said, slowly crossing the room. "How're you doing?"

"Not as badly as Barricade implied," Prowl said. "He's not best pleased with you, even though I explained you had no way of knowing. I couldn't travel during storm season, after all, especially not while carrying."

_I have chosen to keep the child._ The words echoed in Jazz's mind again, with more force now that he could see the results of that choice.

"It's okay, I get it," Jazz said and snagged a visitor's chair. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to get your message."

"You had no reason to put your life on hold or think anything of leaving when last we spoke," Prowl pointed out. "Nor could I get word to you during storm season. I admit I did worry and was relieved when your message arrived, explaining your lack of reply. I'd no idea letters travelled so slowly on the surface."

"Yeah, don't think I've ever gotten an actual letter before." Jazz changed the subject. "So, um, Barricade said this hasn't been easy on you. Is that – I mean, are you both - ?"

"We're safe, for now. This was declared to be a high-risk carry early on," Prowl admitted. "I've had to stay in alt for it since this mode is smaller and therefore uses less fuel, and remain on bed rest. I'm assured the mechlet is healthy, if small, and I've no reason to disbelieve it – especially if the way they kick me is any indication."

Despite the tension he was feeling, Jazz chuckled. "Bitlet kicks a lot, do they?"

"Yes," Prowl said, smiling fondly. "They're kicking right now, in fact. Would you like to feel it?"

"Uh," Jazz had no idea, but it seemed like Prowl wanted him to, so… "Sure, okay."

"Give me your hand."

Jazz gave, and Prowl put it on his abdomen and yeah, Jazz could feel the kid kicking, alright.

"Yes," Prowl said, correctly interpreting Jazz's expression, "it does feel strange at first."

"Yeah, no kidding." Prowl's hand was still on top of Jazz's, and neither attempted to move it. "You seem happy, though."

Prowl smiled, tired-looking but happy. "I am. I find myself delighted to be a creator."

"I remember you saying that in your letter," Jazz said, as if he didn't have the whole thing practically burned into his spark casing. "Gotta be honest and say I don't know what I want to do, but I'm happy for you, Prowler."

"Thank you." Prowl let his hand go, and Jazz drew it back. "I'm glad you came. I meant what I said regarding the nature of your role in the child's life, and I place no expectations on your presence here."

"I don't know what I want to do," Jazz repeated. "I've just been focused on getting back here so I could see you. I didn't like leaving you on your own with no answers from me."

"It isn't an easy choice to make," Prowl said, nodding. "But you have time. Not much before emergence, it's true, but certainly, before they're old enough to understand."

"Have you given any thought to what it'd look like if I did co-parent with you?" Jazz asked. "I mean, if you don't mind helping me out, here."

"I don't mind. I – ah. One moment please, Jazz."

A mech Jazz guessed was a nurse, since they were painted in medical red and white but without doctor's glyphs, entered the room. They brought Prowl weird-looking energon and a bunch of metallic capsules in little cups.

"Supplements and medical-grade energon specifically formulated for carrying mecha," Prowl explained, taking the cube and one of the cups. "Unpleasant but necessary."

The nurse checked monitors and leads and scanned Prowl while he took his supplements and finished his energon like a good mech. Jazz sat quietly since the conversation they needed to have seemed like a pretty private one, even if he couldn't quite understand it. Once he and Prowl were alone, Jazz spoke up again.

"Look, Prowler, whatever happens – I'm sorry I haven't been here while you've been going through this."

"Your absence was not your fault," Prowl said. "You did come once you could, which is all I could have asked. As to your earlier question, I had thought we might come to a form of shared custody, where the child would reside with me half the year and you the other, or that you might only wish occasional visits outside of the storm season. If you want permanent custody," and Prowl's voice hitched just a fraction, "I – "

"No." Jazz interrupted, shaking his head, and put a hand over Prowl's again. "No, Prowl, I'm not – I wouldn't take them away from you. I won't. Not just 'cause I think your scary big brother out there would feed me online to the oxide sharks if I tried, either." That got a brief laugh out of Prowl. "I can see how much you love them. I can't ask you to move away from your family and your life here, but…"

"You have a whole life on the surface, too," Prowl finished. "Yes. And, of course, the child may have a vehicle or tool-based alt mode, in which case it would be simpler to raise them primarily on land."

"You don't know yet?"

Prowl shook his head. "They've not yet practiced engaging their transformation cog, and scans show them to be bipedal." As if punctuating that, the kiddo kicked again. "We're usually in root mode during development, but an infant developing in alt isn't entirely unknown."

Someone – Barricade Jazz saw when he turned around – knocked on the doorframe.

"Nurse says visiting hours are almost over for the day," Barricade said, and the look he gave Jazz wasn't any friendlier than before. "They want to know where you want to put _him_."

"There are accommodations for non-carrying parents on this floor. Jazz can be put up there if he wants to stay." Prowl looked at Jazz, who nodded.

"Yeah, still some stuff we've gotta talk about."

"Alright. Speaking of which, please arrange a language download for Jazz." Prowl added, "and an online account. I'd like to send him some of the scans. If – if you'd like. To see them, I mean."

Jazz had no idea if he wanted to see scans or not, but it was pretty obvious that Prowl wanted him to take a look, so he agreed and left shortly after that. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Prowl, already looking sleepy, still gently caressing the swell of his stomach.

* * *

Barricade arranged the language download first, probably so he wouldn't have to deal with Jazz as much, and left him in a little room to install it. The room was a smaller copy of Prowl's hospital room, minus equipment and furniture for visitors and plus a workstation. Jazz napped to let the language pack install first and then, nervous for reasons he couldn't articulate, booted up the terminal. There was a message with attachments waiting for him. Those had to be the scans of Prowl's – of their kid. Jazz was still getting his head wrapped around that. Prowl being knocked up wasn't the thing he had trouble believing. It was that he'd been knocked up _by Jazz_.

_You struck a spark in me_.

Jazz opened all the attachments at once since there was no point in putting it off. Jazz could make out Prowl's spark's very edge in the first few images, but the focus was on the sparklet. The tiny ball of energy tethered to the parent spark by a too-thin-seeming strand of plasma. The tether got wispier as the sparklet grew larger. Suddenly, Prowl's spark was gone from the pictures. Now they showed the sparklet held in a miniature spark chamber inside a delicate, gleaming little endo-structure. The images continued as the mechlet developed, armour-plating closing vitals inside and features coming into detail. The kid looked a lot like Prowl. Jazz didn't see any of himself in them.

Jazz wondered if that was supposed to help him decide. Because it didn't.

_Whatever choice you make, I will accept._

Which would be great if he could manage to make a choice in the first place. Jazz scrolled through the pictures, watching the kid get bigger and more developed. The legs were blurry in one as if they had been caught mid-kick, and they were pressed against the far side of Prowl's forge. It looked like they'd been trying to run or swim and Jazz smiled despite everything.

"Bet you wanna go fast, don't you?" he murmured and scrolled to the last image. The bitlet's optics were on in this one, and there, finally, Jazz saw himself. The little lenses were glowing the same colour as his visor. Maybe that should've been what did it, what made him think 'yes, I wanna be in the kid's life as their sator,' but it didn't. Jazz felt like he had even less idea now what he wanted to do than the first time he'd read Prowl's letter.

_Frag._

* * *

Joors later, Jazz was reading up on mermech history just to take his mind off things, since going around and around on it wasn't solving anything, when someone knocked on his door. Thinking it was Barricade, or maybe hospital staff, Jazz got up and opened it. It wasn't Barricade, but from the yellow chevron and the blue and red paint job, he figured it had to be Prowl's other brother, Smokescreen.

It hit home to Jazz then that he was all alone in a (very) strange city, and no one had any idea where he was. He wasn't even sure he could get home on his own. Running off with Barricade probably hadn't been the smartest idea, but he'd been in a hurry to finally talk to Prowl. Fortunately, Smokescreen seemed to be in a good mood.

"Hello," he said, favouring Jazz with a charming smile. "I'm Smokescreen. So you're Prowl's friend, hm?"

"Yeah, that's me," Jazz said, still wary. "What can I do for you, Smokescreen?"

"Oh, I simply thought you might be bored all by yourself in this little room. And I'm guessing Barricade didn't bother to have anything sent to you, so why not come with me to the cafeteria?" Smokescreen invited. "You'll need to refuel sometime, now's as good a time as any."

He wasn't wrong, Jazz had to admit, on any of it. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to be on good terms with one of Prowl's brothers, no matter what happened.

The hospital cafeteria was small, but the energon was good, and there was a decent selection of additives. It was also empty, apart from himself and Smokescreen.

Jazz stirred his energon thoroughly, waiting for Smokescreen to make the first move.

"So," Smokescreen began after a klik or so, "Prowl told us how you met – thank you for cutting him free – and that's he's been visiting with you regularly. Yet, he swears you're 'just friends,' before coming home and telling us he's with spark by you. Barricade thinks you're using him, but if it were that, I don't think you'd have bothered to show up. Barricade's also quite angry you took so long to answer Prowl."

"Hey, I got back to him as soon as I found out," Jazz protested. "We were out of contact for the storm season, and real, physical, letters take a long time to get where they're going 'cause no one uses them. I express-shipped a message drone for my cousin to send to Prowl as soon as I knew. I just wasn't in a spot I could drop everything and come running, y'know?"

Smokescreen raised his hands in a 'take it easy' gesture. "I understand. It's only…Barricade's got a temper, and when he's got strong feelings about something, it's hard to change his mind."

"Did Prowl even get the drone I sent?" Jazz asked.

"Yes," Smokescreen assured him. "He was relieved when it arrived. Did he not mention it?"

"Nope." Jazz shook his head. "But we had a lot of other stuff to talk about."

"Of course," Smokescreen murmured. He changed the subject right away. " _Were_ you just friends?"

Jazz shrugged. "Friends, friends with benefits, didn't really get a chance to see if it was going to turn into anything else." Because storm season had hit, and neither of them had had any idea what had happened to the other. "Except I guess it did, since – "

"If it helps," Smokescreen said, "Barricade and I are excited about having a nibling to spoil. Prowl's going to have support no matter what. The child will have all the love and attention they could possibly want."

_You don't need to do anything_ went unspoken. Or maybe that was just Jazz's imagination.

"Look," Jazz said, starting to feel a little defensive. "I just found about the sparklet – mechlet, now, I guess – a deca-cycle ago. I spent most of that deca-cycle giving my students their finals and trying not to freak out in public and then get back here as fast as I could. That message drone I sent was the last one I had. I was waiting on the beach where I met Prowl every spare nano-klik I _had,_ hoping one of _you_ would show up because that was the only way I could think of to get hold of Prowl. I wasn't ignoring him; I just," he spread his hands, "don't get what else I could've done. As for what I'm doing about the kid, no offence, but that's between Prowl and me."

"Do you love him?" Smokescreen asked abruptly.

"As a friend? Yeah. Absolutely. As anything else, that's between Prowl and me too." Jazz hoped Smokescreen didn't mean the bitlet because, honestly, Jazz had no idea what he felt for them. Maybe that made him a lousy ignis, but it was true. Couldn't help what you felt or didn't feel, but it didn't mean you had to open your mouth about it.

"Hnh. Did Prowl tell you anything about what carrying has been like for him?"

"Just that it was high-risk, he's had to stay in alt, and he's been on bed rest for most of it. He did say the bitlet's small but healthy."

Smokescreen sighed. "Of course that's all he told you."

"Yeah, well, I did figure out there's more to it than that. No reason the mech can't do bed rest at home instead of in a hospital if that's all he needs to do, right?" Jazz had almost forgotten his energon; he picked it up and took a sip. He wasn't hungry but finishing it would give him an excellent excuse to get going.

"He's been at risk of early emergence for most of the carry," Smokescreen said. "With the mechlet being so small…" He trailed off, but Jazz got the hint. "Maybe he didn't want to upset you."

Jazz didn't much like emotional blackmail, and especially not when it was applied to him. "Or he didn't think it was relevant since he seems to feel the kid's fine now. Small but healthy is what he said, and they sure feel healthy when they kick."

"Oh." Smokescreen looked surprised. "Prowl let you feel them kick?"

"Insisted on it." This was a bit strong, but Jazz didn't like how Smokescreen treated Prowl as passive or unable to choose what info he thought was appropriate or necessary for Jazz to know. "Sent me images of their development, too." Jazz tossed back the rest of his energon. "Thanks for the energon and the info," he said, deliberately not thanking Smokescreen for the company. Petty, maybe, but Jazz was getting annoyed over the way Prowl's sibs were treating him. "Think I'll head back to my room now. Been a long day."

"You're able to find your way back?" Smokescreen asked.

"Yup."

Before he entered the room he'd been given, Jazz briefly contemplated sneaking in to see Prowl. He'd always be good at sneaking, but then again, he didn't know how often a nurse might come in to check on him. He didn't even know if Prowl was awake, and the mech probably needed his sleep. Jazz wondered if the bitlet ever kept him up late at night, kicking.

Jazz hoped Prowl would get some decent sleep. One of them had to.

* * *

Jazz was into Prowl's room again once visiting hours started the next day. Prowl looked alert, and he smiled when he saw Jazz.

"Hey, Prowler," Jazz said, claiming the visitor's chair again. "How's it going this morning?"

"Very well, Jazz, thank you. Did you rest well?"

Jazz shrugged, not entirely willing to lie to Prowl. "I did okay."

"I apologize for Barricade," Prowl said. "He is – protective."

"Yeah, I got that. Met your other brother, too."

"Ah."

Jazz wasn't sure what to make of that, so he offered, "they really care about you. The kiddo, too."

Prowl smiled. "Yes, they're looking forward to being uncles."

"Yeah, I got that. Um," Jazz glanced at Prowl's abdomen. "So, Smokescreen said you'd had some trouble and hinted the kid might be in danger too?"

Prowl's smile vanished, and he sighed. "I – am doing better. There has been a risk of early emergence, which is why I am in a room with a birthing pool."

Oh, that must be the oil-bath thing. Jazz had never given much thought to emergence one way or another since he'd never planned on doing it himself, but it made sense for mermecha to do it underwater.

"At one point," Prowl continued, "it was thought medical intervention would be required to stop an early emergence, but that hasn't come to pass. I'm close enough to the end of the carry that it's no longer much of a concern, though the mechlet may require monitoring and probably exposure to my spark. But I've no reason to be seriously worried that they would be in danger." Prowl changed the subject. "Jazz, did you get a chance to look at the pictures?"

"Yeah," Jazz said and found himself reaching out to touch Prowl's abdomen again. "They mostly look like you, but they've got my optics."

"Yes," Prowl said, and carefully took Jazz's hand and laid it on his stomach. "They do. But you still haven't decided what you want regarding them, have you?"

"No. I'm sorry, Prowl," Jazz said honestly. "You – both of you – deserve an answer, but I just don't have one."

"Very well, if you don't know whether you wish to be a parent or not," Prowl said calmly as if they weren't discussing something as significant as Jazz's involvement in their child's life, "let's talk about what you do want."

"Well," Jazz said slowly, "I still want us to be friends. I care about you, Prowl, and I care about the kid, too. I know you won't exactly be able to visit frequently, though, and that's okay."

"Do you care about them because they're ours, or because they're mine?"

"Probably makes me a bad ignis, but because they're yours," Jazz admitted.

"It doesn't," Prowl said immediately. "Make you a bad ignis, I mean. You didn't plan for this. I don't even know if creations were something you wanted. And as I said before, you have some time before they're even able to understand what a creator or sator is. Would you – would you like to be Uncle Jazz, at least for now?"

_Uncle Jazz_. Present, in the kid's and Prowl's lives, but without the same amount of responsibility. Jazz thought it over for a moment.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, I think I can do that, at least for now."

"Alright then," Prowl said, smiling. "Uncle Jazz it is." His smile turned a little wicked. "Now. Would you like me to tell you embarrassing stories about my brothers?"

Jazz was _absolutely_ not going to turn that down.

* * *

Jazz was still in Prowl's room later that afternoon. They'd traded stories, and he'd run a few errands to get Prowl new datapads, snacks, and some non-medical-grade energon. Barricade and Smokescreen were working, doing whatever they did, so he had Prowl pretty much to himself. Nurses came in and out a few times, and the mechlet seemed active that day, kicking and twisting in Prowl's forge. Jazz was in the middle of telling Prowl about some of his students when Prowl suddenly grimaced and pressed a hand to his abdomen.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked anxiously.

"Something – new," Prowl said, reaching to buzz for the nurse. "They've not moved like that before. It felt _very_ strange."

"Okay," Jazz said, unsure what to do. "Uh, are you getting any error messages or…?"

"No, but something has changed."

All Smokescreen's insinuations about the risks to Prowl and the mechlet came right back to Jazz's mind, and he tried not to hover nervously, though he didn't think he succeeded. It didn't help that the nurse, after running a scan, summoned Prowl's doctor.

"I'm sure it's fine," Prowl murmured to Jazz while they waited.

Jazz managed a smile, holding Prowl's hand. "Pretty sure I'm supposed to say that to you."

The doctor, Lifeline, showed up and did a quick scan, then broke into a smile. "It's alright, Prowl," she said reassuringly. "Their t-cog came online, and they've just transformed for the first time. Would you like to see them?" she offered.

Of course Prowl said 'yes,' and Lifeline did something with a piece of equipment with a display monitor. Jazz was curious to see what the kid looked like in whatever mode they'd developed. It took a few nano-kliks, but pixels resolved into an image of the mechlet, curled up into an odd shape that, after a moment, Jazz recognized as an attempt at a vehicle, but without wheels or enough mass.

"Are they okay?" Jazz asked anxiously. Were they _supposed_ to look like that? Had something gone wrong?

"They're fine," Lifeline said calmly, probably used to dealing with anxious parents. "They've been developing in their root mode, and this is an attempt at their alt. They just haven't gained the mass and the necessary components for it yet. That's perfectly normal for a very young juvenile and especially a fetus. This is just a test of their transformation cog. See?" She did something and zoomed in on the mechlet's t-cog, which looked a bit lumpier than Jazz expected. "Their t-cog is very well developed. They might even be a triple-changer, but it's too early to tell. They don't have enough mass or a developed enough t-cog to allow for more than one transformation. We won't know until they're much older."

Concentric ripples ran across the screen as Lifeline zoomed the image back out. Jazz frowned at it.

"What was that?" Jazz asked.

"Just the amniotic fluid moving," Lifeline explained. "They're probably trying to rev their engine."

Oh. _Oh_ , that was adorable! Even as they watched, though, the kid transformed back, squirming and kicking, making Prowl grimace again. The image was distorted further, and Lifeline ended the scan.

"Well, I'd say their t-cog successfully passed its test," Lifeline said, chuckling. "Prowl, you're probably going to enter emergence within the next few cycles. It's not usually long after they reach this point that they want out."

"They may still require monitoring and spark exposure, correct?" Prowl asked.

"Yes, though of course, we won't know for certain how much until they've emerged."

"I see." Prowl looked at Jazz. "Jazz, if you'd like to stay for the emergence…?"

"Probably should let a few people know I'm going to be away for a bit, make sure no orders are waiting," Jazz answered slowly, thinking, "but all I need is access to planetary comms. But yeah, Prowler, of course I'll stay."

Prowl nodded, looking grateful. "Thank you. I'll ask Smokescreen to arrange transport for you, to your home and back. It's likely easiest if you use your own terminal."

Jazz pictured being strapped to Barricade again, and something must have shown on his expression. Prowl's lips twitched in a smile.

"I will find you access to a watercraft to transport you there and back," Prowl said gently.

"Oh, okay."

* * *

A mech with a submarine alt-mode gave Jazz a lift back to his beach, even though Jazz did have to swim and then wade part of the way back. Nothing urgent was waiting for him, and he put an 'away' notice on his comms. The whole time, in the back of his mind, he was worrying Prowl would enter emergence while Jazz was gone. Jazz had done his reproductive education modules, he knew it could take a while for everything to transform out of the way and the bitlet to safely disengage from Prowl's forge and make its way out. Jazz had no idea what he'd even do since it seemed pretty automatic, and Lifeline would be there, but he still felt like if he got back and everything was done, he'd've let Prowl down somehow. Prowl would understand, just like he'd understood Jazz's uncertainty and the time it had taken him to get back, but somehow knowing that made Jazz feel even worse.

On his way out, a holo of his creators caught his attention. Primus, he hadn't even thought about how he would explain any of this to them. Yeah, he could've brought home a kid that was part Rock Lord, and they'd love them, but the big difference was they knew Rock Lords existed. Sparking up a myth-mech was a whole different matter. As he walked back down to the water, Jazz tried to picture bringing Prowl, plus a bitlet, back to his family home and explaining how they'd met.

Maybe they'd be too busy with their only first-creation to ask a lot of questions. Maybe.

Jazz was setting foot back into the hospital before he realized he'd been thinking of his creators in the role of first-creators. Not exactly a part they could play if he was honorary Uncle Jazz, was it? He knew they wanted to be first-creators, even if they'd never said anything, and he could give them that. He loved Prowl platonically like he'd told Smokescreen, and he did like kids. Jazz still couldn't decide if he wanted to be the kid's sator, actually involved in their upbringing instead of merely striking their spark. But…'I'm not sure' wasn't the same thing as 'I don't want to,' now, was it?

Jazz wasn't sure he wanted to be a sator, but he wasn't vehemently opposed to the idea either. It'd make Prowl happy, and it'd make his creators happy – it probably wouldn't make Barricade happy, but Jazz wasn't exactly worried about that. He didn't know how he and Prowl could manage to co-parent, but Prowl had that idea about splitting the stellar-cycle between them, hadn't he? Jazz's house was small, but he could afford an extension of a single room. There was that section of the garden that the NaCl crystals kept trying to colonize that he never used. It'd have a good view of the sea, too. Prowl would like that.

Thinking, Jazz walked slowly back to Prowl's room, peeking around the corner of the open door before he made any noise to alert Prowl or anyone else who might be in there. Visiting hours were _technically_ over, but Jazz wouldn't be shy about playing up the worried ignis bit if he got caught. It wasn't really a lie; he was worried, just maybe not for the reasons anyone would think.

Prowl was awake and reading, almost everything but the curve of his forge wrapped in warming tarps.

"Hey," Jazz said just loud enough for Prowl to hear.

Prowl looked up and smiled. "Come in, Jazz, please."

The visitor's chair was where Jazz had left it, and he settled in again. "Everything okay?"

"My systems are diverting heat to my forge in preparation for emergence," Prowl explained. "It should be soon. Lifeline has ordered the birthing pool to be filled, and the water kept circulating, just in case."

"Glad I made it back," Jazz said. "I just – I wanted to be here for this. For you."

Prowl reached over and put a hand on Jazz's. "Thank you. I know this doesn't mean you've changed your mind about your level of involvement, but I appreciate your staying."

"Yeah, 'bout that involvement." Jazz folded his hand over Prowl's. "Hit me on my way back down that I can't keep this from my creators. I won't tell them anything about you and mermecha, and your city 'cause I know it's secret, but I can't not tell them there's a kid from my code out there. They'll – they'd love to be first-creators."

"My first-creators and my creators are one with the Matrix," Prowl said softly. "It's part of the reasons my brothers are so protective."

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Prowl," Jazz said.

"Thank you. It was many vorns ago." Prowl had set his datapad aside and was absently caressing his forge again with his free hand. "If you wish for them to be first-creators, that would necessitate you being a creator."

"Yeah." Jazz was staring at Prowl's forge, picturing the mechlet held behind his protoform. The one with Jazz's optics. "Yeah, and I guess I don't have a reason not to, I just – what if I'm not good at it?"

Prowl looked at him thoughtfully for a few nano-kliks before speaking again. "Jazz. When I first discovered I was sparked, I didn't know what I wanted to do. It took me deca-cycles to decide I wanted to go through with it, less time than you have had, and I had my brothers for support. I was afraid for the same reasons and over the same things. I still worry. So," Prowl smiled gently, "perhaps we should worry together?"

Jazz didn't reply right away, turning that over and over again in his head.

"Yeah," he said finally. "Yeah, I guess we should."

* * *

Prowl went into emergence in the middle of the night. Jazz had stayed with him, dozing in the chair, and was awakened by Prowl shaking his arm.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked, visor flickering back on.

"Emergence is beginning," Prowl told him. "I just received the prompt and summoned the duty nurse."

"Oh!" Jazz was _wide_ awake now. "Oh, wow. Uh – what do you need? How do you feel?"

"It's very strange," Prowl answered, hands on his forge. "I can feel components beginning to shift, altering and unlocking."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It's not comfortable, but there is no pain."

The duty nurse came in, confirmed Prowl was in actual emergence and called Lifeline before helping Prowl into the birthing pool while an anxious Jazz hovered.

"What do you need me to do?" Jazz asked, feeling kind of useless. "I mean, is there anything I can do?"

"I need to kneel and lean," Prowl said with certainty, trying to do just that. "Come in and help me?"

Jazz wasn't going to refuse, not because he was particularly eager to witness an emergence but because Prowl had no one else here but medical staff. Prowl lacked his usual grace, thanks to his forge's bulge, and Jazz helped him get up on his knees. 

"Yes. This is…closer."

"Closer?" Jazz asked.

"In root mode, I would simply float. In alt, this is not right, but it's close enough to correct for comfort." Prowl suddenly grimaced, and something moved under his plating. "No," Prowl said, as Jazz moved behind him to put a steadying arm around his shoulder, "not there. In front of me. I - forward. I need to kneel and lean forward."

"Okay, sure, Prowler," Jazz said and did what his friend asked, trying not to make too much of a mess.

"Yes," Prowl said, leaning forward so that their forehelms were almost touching. "This is right."

Jazz wrapped his arms around Prowl. "Okay. Good. I can hear steps outside, might be Lifeline. I don't think it's heavy enough to be one of your brothers."

"Barricade and Smokescreen reside on the other side of the city. They're not – mmph – not eligible for rooms here like you are. It will – ah! – take them time to get here." Prowl's optics dimmed, and Jazz thought he might be headed toward pain after all. "I don't think they have time."

Jazz had no idea if Prowl was going through emergence too fast, too slow, or just right or even if there was such a thing.

"I'm here, Prowler," Jazz said as Lifeline came into the room with a couple of other staff members. He hoped Prowl didn't hear how uncertain he felt. "I've gotcha. You're not gonna do this alone."

Now Prowl did touch their forehelms together, his optics flickering off in what looked like relief. "Thank you, Jazz."

"Prowl," Lifeline said gently, putting a hand on his back. "Can you straighten up for me? Just for a moment?"

"I must lean forward," Prowl insisted.

"You will," she said soothingly. "This is just for a moment, less than a klik, so I can do a scan. I want to check you and the mechlet to make sure you're going to have a safe emergence."

Prowl still seemed reluctant but did what Lifeline asked, though he kept hold of Jazz's arms. She scanned him, hand tracing the curve of his forge just a few microns away from his structure.

"It's been going pretty quick," Jazz offered.

"Yes, it has. Prowl, they may not be able to swim, not if they have a land-based alt and bipedal root, so you may need to help them out. Just like we discussed."

Prowl nodded and leaned into Jazz again. "I remember. They're very – hnn – very eager! It certainly feels as if they're trying to swim."

"It's possible. Jazz, if he has to help them out, you'll need to hold him up."

Jazz nodded. "Right, no worries. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Prowl, when your siblings get here, are they allowed in?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Lifeline said, and Primus was Jazz ever glad for her calming voice. "We're going to let this progress naturally unless you need intervention, just like you requested in your emergence plan."

There was the distinct sound of a minor transformation, and out of the edge of his vision, Jazz saw the water of the birthing pool stain silvery-pink. He was about to freak out before he realized it must be the nanite-enriched energon solution the kiddo had been floating in during construction. Prowl's forge had begun to open, and the carrying mech made a sound of relief.

"Prowler?"

"It was not comfortable to be so swollen," Prowl said, and he let go of Jazz to reach down. "I'm close – the inner forge must iris open fully. I – hold me up, Jazz?"

"Of course," Jazz said softly, wrapping his arms more tightly around Prowl. "Of course I will. Whenever you need me to."

Prowl tucked his head in against Jazz's neck, irresistibly reminding Jazz of the last time he'd held Prowl. He had a dizzy moment of thinking 'full circle,' and then Prowl gasped.

"Prowl?" Jazz asked, alarmed, but Prowl shook his head.

"They – their helm. I can feel their helm!"

"What are they doing, Prowl?" Lifeline asked, not that Jazz was looking at her. "Can you tell me what you're feeling?"

"They're…pushing, I think? I – _oh!_ "

Water sloshed, and droplets splashed up against Jazz, though he couldn't see what was going on underneath his bumper. Lifeline helped Prowl sit back against the side of the pool, and as he leaned back, Jazz saw the mechlet for the first time. Their optics were online but unfocused, they were silvery-gray without their chromanites online yet, and they were waving their small fists and kicking. Jazz knelt there, staring in awe, and the mechlet began to make a strange noise. It wasn't quite keening, but it was plain that they weren't happy with the change in their situation.

Before Jazz could react, Prowl crooned soothingly at the mechlet, gathering them up in close as his chest plates split, just a little. He draped the juvenile carefully over the gap, exposing them to his spark, and they calmed and snuffled, optics dimming.

"Here, Jazz," Lifeline said and handed him a blanket. She added, "put it over your mechlet," when Jazz spent a moment sitting blankly, staring at Prowl and the mechlet, and not for the life of him able to think of what to do with the blanket. Tuck it around the mechlet, keep them warm. Right, right. He had to help look after them now.

Jazz laid the blanket over the mechlet and carefully tucked it in around them and over Prowl's hands since Prowl didn't let go even for a nano-klik. Prowl was gazing at the baby, his whole expression soft. Jazz wasn't sure if he should touch them, if it would be welcome or if it would even be a good idea because the kid seemed to be absorbing Prowl's spark energy. Jazz didn't want to disturb them if it was something they needed like Prowl had said it might be.

"They're beautiful, Jazz," Prowl said in a choked voice. "Look! Look at them..."

"They are," Jazz said, his own voice filled with emotion, because it was true. He couldn't stop looking at them, this tiny mech he and Prowl had made, as they squirmed and flickered their optics and flexed their small hands. Jazz hesitantly reached out. "Can I - ?"

"Of course you can," Prowl said gently, cradling the newbuild and gazing down at them. "Yes."

Jazz carefully sat next to Prowl and put a cautious hand lightly on the mechlet's back. Their optics flickered, and they made an inquisitive noise but didn't protest or cry. Prowl nuzzled them and kissed their helm, completely ignoring his internals and armours shifting back to their original positions.

"Hey, there, little mech," Jazz said softly. "Hi. Sorry that I haven't been around till now, but-but I'm gonna be here for you now, okay?"

Prowl turned his head to look at Jazz, cheek pressed to the mechlet's helm. "His data uploaded to me. His designation is Bluestreak."

"Bluestreak, huh?" Jazz found himself rubbing little circles into Bluestreak's back. "Hi there, Bluestreak, little guy. You look just like your creator, you know that?"

Prowl smiled, looking down at Bluestreak again, love clear in his face. "But he has his ignis' optic colour."

"Nah," Jazz said, gazing into the optics in question, and swore that Bluestreak fully focused on him, just for a moment. "He has his sator's."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day ([solar cycle](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Solar_cycle)) names from [The Allspark Almanac II](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers_Animated:_The_AllSpark_Almanac_II), by way of [TFWiki](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/). Month ([orbital cycle](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Orbital_Cycle)) names from [The Allspark Almanac II](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers_Animated:_The_AllSpark_Almanac_II), by way of [TFWiki](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/).
> 
> Counting generations from 0 instead of 1: Creator = Parent; First Creator = Grandparent; Creation = Child; First Creation = Grandchild.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
> 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> Author Responses: This author replies to comments. If you don't want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with "whisper," and I will appreciate it but not respond.


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